


Crashes of Clay (and More Compulsions Zelda Isn't Aware Of)

by Danowsawa



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Abuse of Pottery, Affection, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Link History Nobody Asked For, Romance, Tasting, Teasing, Toying, playful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danowsawa/pseuds/Danowsawa
Summary: Eight years after his former life as the Hero of Time came to its close, Link has found himself enjoying life with his one love, Zelda. On the eve of her parents' first visit to meet Link, not as her friend, but as her partner, a rather unsightly habit begins to manifest itself within Link's life, leaving the two uncertain of how to deal with such an odd stroke of misfortune before it derails any hope of her parent's accepting of Link's hand in courtship.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Zelda’s eyes snapped open as she awoke, as though a switch had been flipped within the recesses of her mind as soon as her body came to realize, even without conscious effort, the aberration she found herself within. Her eyes glanced upward toward the pristine pallet of whites and greys that lined the ceiling, crisscrossed into dark junctions of grout, her brow furrowing in suspicious reverie before her head spun atop her pillow to the side.

Link had left the bed.

An inquisitive stare left her as bewildering thoughts spun around her mind. Where had he gone? Such a thing hadn’t ever happened before, and even when it had, she would normally only awaken upon his return, when that arm of his, sinewy strong and lined with muscle, crept along her midsection to pull her into his warm embrace. But on this occasion, she was simply here, alone, left with her thoughts.

Her head turned to the opposite side as she pushed herself upward, seating herself in bed as she took stock of the time, judging simply by the darkness beyond the curtains that it was somewhere in the middle of the night. Knowing of her history, held in some fierce entanglement of destiny with the boy she had known grown to love into adulthood, a gradual pang of worry began to swell in her heart at the pure uncertainty of such a strangely out-of-place phenomenon such as-

* _CRASH_ *

Zelda's head jolted toward the doorway, eyes blistering wide in shock while the battled to fight off the terror she had found clawing at her mind. In sheer defiance of that need to take flight, she threw her legs off the bed, her body following as she came to her feet, stepping with a forceful wariness as she clutched the open ends of her silken pajamas, her fist held against her chest leaving her with enough of a defensive posture so as to help radiate some amount if courage throughout her body.

As she swiftly exited the bedroom, stepping quick into the small space that amounted to a tiny apartment-sized living space within the castle, Zelda came to a sudden halt as she stole a breath in confusion.

“Link?!”

The man who had been crouched down against the wall, picking up what appeared in the darkness to be a collection of material strewn about the floor, looked up toward her with concern.

“Did I wake you? Sorry.”

She sighed, “You don’t need to be, but- By the goddess! What happened?!”

Zelda stepped toward Link as he returned to picking up whatever was on the ground, muttering softly, as though in apology, “I got up for some milk. Must’ve accidentally knocked against the cabinet- One of those pots fell to the ground and shattered.”

His eyes turned up to find her approach, warning, “Careful.”

She obliged, her eagerness to assist her lover preventing her from merely remained oblivious to any sort of help, though she continued, “Over here? Why were you-?”

Working the logistics through her mind, she frowned with a sigh, “…still worried?”

Link didn’t reply immediately, keeping his attention upon the stricken blots of pottery against the dark patterns of the rug beneath them, “I guess I was just pacing for a bit.”

“Link,” Zelda muttered, pausing her own collecting to reach a hand over toward his shoulder, “My parents are not monsters. They’re not going to _impale_ you on sight.”

Link's eyes rolled, “I’m only the man who wormed his way into their daughter's good graces, plotting for years to get into her boudoir at the first chance at a conquest.”

A pithy sigh left Zelda breathless behind a wry smirk, “You know that’s not how it happened.”

“It’s certainly how your father views it,” Link relayed, his voice having hollowed while he took into his hands more bits of clay, “He was already so absorbed that you continued allowing audience with a boy who has no name, no history to speak of.”

Zelda smiled, sliding her hand from Link's shoulder up along his neck before it settling at the side of his face, bringing his eyes into her own, “Even if they don’t know your history, _I_ do. as esoteric as it all might be.”

“More importantly-“ she paused for a brief moment, allowing herself a mere moment to express in a smile what she had felt within the past, presently, and even in some future that would no longer be, due to their efforts, “-I know that you shower me with adoration. That you love me for more than political gain or money.”

Link sighed, rather perturbed by the ease with which his mind could be quelled by this woman whom he’d come to love. His stoicism had often left him with images of personal depth that were often too deep for even his own mind to wholly understand, yet Zelda traversed his complexities as though she were a skilled cartographer, mapping the labyrinthine passages of his emotions and thoughts as though compelled to some labor of love, one that Link understood, well enough, he could never even hope to match himself.

“Now-" Zelda smiled, pulling away her hand from his face as she stood up, “You finish up and I will make us some tea. We’re already up, anyway.”

Link shrugged, “I wish I could say the same for this pot.”

“It was little more than decoration, if that leaves your mind at ease,” Zelda noted plainly, taking a moment to bring light to an oil lantern atop the four-person dining table, “It was a ghastly thing, indeed. I’m pretty sure it only remained here because my mother gifted it to me or something.”

She allowed herself to giggle fondly, “She _does_ have a habit of knowing what object to give me, but her métier certainly is _not_ in design. It’s always something too odd or distracting for any purpose beyond hiding away in a closet.”

Link heard her begin to prepare the tea, a gentle sloshing of water being churned about within their kettle, finishing up the last of the collection of clay as he stood, taking an extended glance atop the small cabinet at his side, where the pot had been knocked off. His eyes glared aimlessly at the thing's terra cotta siblings, eyes narrowing his dizzying focus, only to be broken by Zelda’s approach.

He whipped his head to the side as her delicate touch grazed his bare back, causing her smile to fall unceremoniously, “Link. What ails you.”

Shrugging, he answered with a listless tone, “It’s as you said.”

“This isn’t just worry,” she retorted simply, “There’s something else. Something in the way you just looked at me. You were tearing yourself away from a trance.”

Link eyed her sarcastically, his brow curving in a meandering slither of feigned suspicion, “You think you know me so well.”

“I _know_ I do,” she grinned with a coiling of her own design.

Giving a rather boorish breath through his nose, Link reached over to bridge the space between them, closing the palm of his hand against her arm, “Then you know how little I wish to answer.”

Zelda's face froze in understanding while Link slid his hand along the silken skin that concealed her arm, “Now, I didn’t wish to bother you, yet here you are brewing tea. I would be a terrible man to deny you that offer.”

A playful flash of realization crossing her mind, Zelda smirked, “You make it sound like I made it only for you.”

“Not at all,” Link assured with a chuckle, deep and haunting, like a specter that reverberated against the very air betwixt Zelda's skin, “But of course-"

He reached his hand to take hold of her own, handling her fingers with a dainty hold while raising those slender digits to his face where his lips awaited, as though he were a proper prince in greeting.

“I would adore this moment, were it shared with you.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, allowing only a mischievous smile to cross her face, “You’re such a boy. Thinking some sweet words will keep you from trouble.”

“It’s taken me _this_ far,” he confirmed childishly before stepping past the night-swept princess in a stride, making his way toward the kitchen, leaving her to bury her face against her chest, hiding a silent laugh at his bravado that seemed non-existent outside of only the most seemingly inopportune times.

He had always been a man of few words, even as a child, leaving Zelda the task, usually, of making conversation. After so many years of directing such affairs came the source of Zelda’s intricate knowledge of this man she had come to love, a window into the depths of a man that could so easily be turned into a weapon, Zelda knew, and while she often toyed with the idea of sinking her teeth into her boy whenever he became as rowdy as he had just become, it had always remained something of a fleeting fantasy.

Instead, she resigned herself to a sigh as she strode toward the kitchen herself, finding Link standing above the kettle with a tepid hand swirling in placid motion as he directed the metal chain along the heated water, the steel ball of tea at its other end following mindlessly while the man’s ministrations worked brew from its leaves. He stood upright, his free hand clutched his side absently, leaving Zelda a brief moment to amuse herself with his form, forcing a grin to grace her appearance before Link could turn to shoot her a sidelong glance.

“What?” he asked plainly.

“Nothing,” Zelda shrugged, crossing her arms as she leaned her shoulder against the wall, “Just watching.”

Link’s brow shot upward in sarcastic terror as his attention returned to the kettle, “Afraid I’ll discover a way to ruin tea?”

“Not exactly,” she offered coyly, noting the tender smirk that appeared atop the source of her attention.

She strolled closer, finally coming to Link's backside, where she reached around him, sliding her hands along his slender stomach, enjoying the subtle slithering of fine hair rolling along the insides of her fingers as they went, finally coming to a stop only after locking Link's torso in her embrace.

“I know tea is a hands-on activity, but that’s usually only for the one doing the brewing.”

Zelda snapped playfully, “Shut up.”

She felt his body shake with silent laughter, allowing her a moment's respite to smile at such a charming reaction. Her cheek, pressed as it was against the broad stretch of warm skin between his shoulders, turned away only to allow her a gentle kiss against his back, in a swatch of skin hidden against bone that forced a shiver along his back.

“I just like watching you like this,” she admitted without much further explanation.

Link watched the dark brew with sharp eyes, unable to decipher her meaning before slipping the ball of tea leaves free from the heated water, placing it gently to the side as Zelda's voice returned to his waiting ears.

“I always watched my mother and her friends- mothers of mothers- and then their kin. I saw their subservience to others. and it so terrified me. Thinking of living a half life, split apart from what I truly desire in life.”

Her forehead gently slid across his skin in affectionate reprieve, “I don’t know. I just fall in love, all over again, watching you unafraid to shoulder the burdens of banality.”

“Ah,” Link muttered in quiet reply, “You thought me one to loaf around while you tended to my every need.”

He glanced over his shoulder to catch her with a glimpse, “That ignores the needs of your own that I’m rather enthused to tend to.”

“Shut up,” Zelda repeated, still in a teasing fashion, even as she drove a knuckle into Link's side, forcing him to laugh in a quick, tickling fit as he returned to the tea, “I’m being serious.”

“As was I,” Link assured, his breath leaving him in chorus with the piddling tenor of liquid cupping swirling into the air, filling two small porcelain mugs with the aromatic burst of flavorful tea.

He turned only after Zelda released her hold on him, offering her the mug hanging from his fingers before leaning back against the kitchenette, taking a swipe of air into the nostrils while the tea rested just before his face. Zelda leaned against the wall across from him, emulating him as she had learned to do in their years together, the man's Kokiri roots having taught him the ‘proper’ of going about these things.

“Rosemary,” Link noted quietly, “and baba seed.”

Zelda's eyes narrowed, “Baba seed?”

“Probably a Goron extract; they’re into some pretty odd things,” Link smirked, “You could probably concoct certain potions from those seeds, too.”

Curled lips preceding her question, Zelda took a careful sip of the still-scalding tea, “Different than last time.”

“Oftentimes, yes,” Link nodded, “The leaves change, the soil changes, the air- Little things.”

His eyes wandered, as if feeling a spotlight upon him, “I’m not weird, am I?”

Zelda giggled, assuring him steadily, “Of course not.”

“It was just another thing back in the forest,” Link shrugged, “There wasn’t much to do _but_ taste teas and root brew and stuff. We never had ‘extra’ growing up; our food was essentially what the Deku Tree offered us- never was it too much, nor too little. So you learned to savor it- appreciate it as a gift. Detail it in excruciating detail because any untoward action, and it could all be gone in a moment’s time.”

His eyes cast toward his mug, hiding his nerves, “But that’s all weird stuff, so-“

Hidden partially behind her mug, Zelda watched Link nervously scratch the back of his neck. His enjoyment of his tea seemed tainted, almost, leaving her disillusioned herself. She loved the persnickety manner with which he accepted such a thing.

“I didn’t mean to make you so self-conscious of it,” Zelda quietly replied.

He nodded, “I know, just-"

Taking an uncertain sip himself, Link took a deep breath through his nose before the swig hit his throat, allowing the taste of the tea to rest along his tongue. That earthily dank, yet playfully subtle bitterness, that which was so characteristic of deku baba seed, lined the edges of his tongue, while the serenity of rosemary rested, almost cupped, toward the center of his pallet.

“I’m not the man I was,” he suddenly spoke up in tepid tenor, “I mean-“

His brow coiled in concern, “I’ve taken a hearty few years’ worth of strides since that age we were when we took our final step back in time. My _true_ seventeenth year came and went with me feeling- I don’t know.”

“Un-hero like?” Zelda surmised with a gentle tone.

“Not even that,” Link sighed, taking another sip, “I don’t know if I would even _want_ to be the man I was. Not now, anyway. Not when all of that ability would be wasted. But I’m twenty-five now, and my life is just-“

His eyes retreated into the dark recesses of his eyelids, Link’s head bowing low as he challenged himself to admit to Zelda what he had already had to admit to himself. He knew her all to well. That any secret of his might be even more guarded within her mind than his own. Still, a fear crept into his mind, as irrational as it might have been; a trepidation that had only calcified with the parents of the only woman he’d ever come to love as a man could ever hope to love another being.

“Now-“ he slowed in reply, “What if- What if I’m not _ever_ able to become the man I’m supposed to be without Hyrule forcing it from me?”

Zelda’s eyes fell in silent reverie, taking in his words with a reticence that signaled her whole esteem for his admittance. Link had returned to his tea without much else in the way of emotion; clearly, as impactful as this idea had been the last few years, it hadn’t chiseled its way _too_ far into his mind, Zelda noted.

His attention perked up as the sound of porcelain clacking against wood broke the air, forcing his eyes upward to find Zelda stepping toward him with an august look on her face, as though in examination, before she stood close enough that a timid breath could break past the distance.

“Link,” she spoke with an earnest retort, “I don’t know the man whom you were to become back then- before we decided to give back to the world the time it had been stricken of.”

Her eyes wavered in thoughtful resonance, “You weren’t forced to become anything. Another person, another child- Any other man by any other name could have taken the mantle as you had. But _you_ were the one to answer the call. because your heart and soul were too big to remain confined to that forest. And you had that drive _before_ anything to do with the goddesses or with time itself, so-“

She smirked, sizing him up with a wry glance, “You still have that. along with a host of other attributes that might not have even been a part of you any other way.”

Link gave a meandering roll of his eyes in reply, leaving her with a giggle as he grumbled, “You make me look so simple.”

“I might despise being shackled to archaic tradition, but I _do_ love you immensely,” Zelda assured easily, “Whenever your mind needs to be quelled, I’m here to take care of you. Same as if your body were injured.”

Her face fell into his chest, kissing the stroke of depth that ran along his sternum, slowing her movement to feel the subtle sensation of fine hair plucking in wild timbre along her curling lips.

“Regardless of anything else,” she confirmed, her chin jammed against him as she turned her head up to peer into his eyes, “Being the only man in my life whom I love, you fill in quite nicely where it counts.”

Link’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, uncertain as to which entendre she was inserting into the conversation, leaving Zelda able to stick out her tongue in a teasing reply of her own before she returned to her tea.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. You love me. That’s all that will matter to my parents,” she confirmed justly.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Zelda swiftly confirmed with a confident smirk, “And you know I’m always right.”

Link gave her a look of feigned puzzlement, “Except when we play the night games in the marketplace.”

“A dubious enterprise, that one.”

Link went on, “When you helped Ihem plant those flowers in the wrong place.”

“The earth is an unpredictable mistress.”

“Those posters you drew up to advertise the fair, only for it to depict an ancient Zora god destroying the very town where the fair was being held.”

Zelda shot him a pithy glare, “Well _now_ you’re just picking and choosing…”

Hiding his chuckle into the mug, Link shook his head in disbelief, finishing a swig before turning the cup down once again, leaving him smiling fondly, “It was pretty cool of you to show up in full octopus regalia just to make good on the promise, though.”

Even more fondly, allowing herself to return to that time three years ago, Zelda smiled with a nod, “I couldn’t let those children down. Gah, they were so excited.”

Link directed his attention to the floor as he reminisced, allowing a faint smile to splay across his face. He thought of this woman, so caring yet so unable, then, to know how to direct such endeavors. Her goodwill had so often been foolhardy at best; a trait Link understood all to well to be his saving grace. Had she come into her own without the necessity of instruction, she would have known better than to choose _him_ , Link knew.

“You say that I answered the call,” Link returned, warily taking stock of his thoughts before advancing, “But I could’ve died at any point. Like you said, _any_ man could’ve made the choice to do what I did. I had a sword put in my hand and got lucky.”

He lifted his eyes, peering into her suddenly somber pair, “You were the one with a legacy to live up to, not me.”

Releasing a quiet chuckle, Link shook his head before taking a final sip of tea, “You truly are something.”

For all their years together- for all the embarrassment levied upon her by this man, to the point where she had grown accustomed to those crimson shades of red burning her face.

The blush scorching her face, now, felt like something wholly new.

Link sat his mug down before pushing himself upright, accepting Zelda’s cup as well while she offered it toward him, “How does bed sound? We’ve got a busy day in Kakariko tomorrow.”

“I’ll remind you that I wasn’t the one who decided to leave that plan a few hours ago,” Zelda teased, “I was quite content remaining beneath those warm blankets.”

Shrugging, Link gave his hand to her, “Nothing wrong with starting again. Shall we?”

“We shall,” Zelda retorted, sticking her tongue out to make a mockery of Link’s sudden formality, following along as Link led her toward the bedroom so that the two of them could return to sleep.

Passing the living quarters, however, Link’s eyes lingered. He slowed, allowing Zelda to pick up her stride to take _him_ to the bedroom alternatively, though it wasn’t simply his plan for her to do so. His eyes had caught sight of something- A chill had flashed down the length of his spine at the recollection of those objects atop the cabinet.

He slid his hand along the wall as Zelda pulled him into the bedroom, an impotent attempt as refusing entry on his part. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes couldn’t bear to part with that view; it was almost _necessary_ , yet- he hadn’t a clue why. Like an addiction one hasn’t a clue they belong to, a ferocious urge shook Link’s heart as his mind raced in circles, counting the possible hours before he could leave that bed- before he claim that which he wanted more than anything at this moment.

Before he could grab hold of one of those two remaining pots above the cabinet. Before he could revel in that euphoric sensation brought upon by such an object’s destruction once again, if only to sate this sudden desire.


	2. Chapter 2

Impa gave a droll sigh as she bent down to grab an armful of hay, lunging her body upward to lift the amber-strewn collection of laced, narrow straw that brushed along the skin of her torso as it fell toward her, with a segment of the wheat poking at her face, leaving her head twisting and turning, lips pursed as she spat out the strands finding her face. Zelda giggled with a girlish draw, reaching over to press the flagrant branches of hat against the bale to relieve her old caretaker.

“P-! PEH!” Impa spat, violently shaking her head to relieve her face of the ticklish intrusion, “Thanks.”

Zelda smirked, “So rough hewn, yet brought to annoyance by a bale of hay.”

“I had eighteen years of raising a little demon to whittle away my nerves,” Impa responded roughly, nearly symbolic of her own stoic appearance, leaving any wayward observer confused as her voice brought out a humor to it, “You drove all the patience out of me.”

Her life having partially been dedicated to catching every subtle inflection of this woman’s changes of mood, alterations that so often failed to make themselves known beyond such minute shifts of tone, Zelda knew to smile at Impa’s words, shaking her head, “You make it sound like I constantly had it out for you. I’ll have you know, I wasn’t always trying to be a brat. If anything, you were harboring a rebellious spirit with all of your restrictions.”

“Restrictions like a proper bedtime?” Impa questioned with an undertow of humor, “Child, most of what you considered _restrictions_ were what most of us in this world recognize as _life_. In any case, you grew up to be a fine woman in your own right; if watching you, now, being proper was paid for by those long nights chasing you around the courtyard, I suppose my patience was a trifling item to be exchanged.”

“You even hide your compliments well,” Zelda grinned.

Impa’s brow curled in sarcastic wonderment, “Why, whatever do you mean? Now, get that pail of water; the cuccoos won’t be content simply with a new spread of bedding.”

Having come to the well in the middle of the village, Zelda did as instructed, working the thick line of rope around a nearby bucket which had long been used communally, tightening a knot along its handle while Impa looked on with something of a faint smile, her head hidden as it was behind the bale of hay.

“Of all monarchs, it speaks volumes of those who don’t mind helping out,” Impa observed.

“GAH!” Zelda shrieked, desperately throwing her arm into the well as her body caught its edge, teetering forward as deep as she could go, having lost the bucket without completing the knot, leaving her with a minute _plosh_ when the wooden vessel hit the water below.

Impa chuckled, “Even if that help isn’t entirely efficient.”

A scowl met the Sheikah as Zelda pulled herself up, though this only led Impa toward further laughter, “I’ll retrieve it later. You head back down to the storehouse and get another one while I take this to the cuckoo pen, alright?”

“Alright,” Zelda sighed with a grumbling tone, frustrated by her own moment of ineptitude, before taking off with a sauntering gait back toward the entrance of the village.

She heard Impa behind her grunt as she threw her powerful body upward to reorient the massive bale in her arms, turning to watch her caretaker stumble along until disappeared around the corner, leaving Zelda alone to make her way to the storeroom. She groaned, thinking how stupid she must have been to have worked such a pitiful knot along the bucket’s handle. For Impa’s praises as to her willingness to work amongst her people, Zelda knew her own abilities were abhorrent at best- she’d never been a particularly good worker, though not for lack of trying. There were always odd little quirks, like the chosen knot being one unable to keep hold of a wooden pail; for whatever reason, Zelda simply appeared to always make decisions, off the cuff, that were the worst ones to make given the nature of the chore.

She recalled an equally embarrassing moment when tasked by the proprietor of the marksmanship range to collect the arrows that had been strewn along the target floor. It hadn’t even occurred to her to wait until the customers had paused their shooting before she found herself crawling around the floor, a hair’s breadth away from taking an arrow herself, before the proprietor noticed her scurrying about, his voice roaring in such a furious cadence that might have nearly popped the roof off of the very building.

It had often been attributed, she thought, simply to her upbringing behind the glossy walls of the castle. She had so very often been a stranger to the simplest of tasks, so now, when the citizenry might be expected to know such things, there were far too many ideas and topics that Zelda was woefully inadequate in her understanding, with her status as princess leaving those whom she was helping with very little incentive to instruct her, even after the princess’ insistence. What person of even low intelligence would _dare_ relay to a member of royalty that what they were doing was wrong, after all?

With Link, this attribute was shared. Having spent much of his childhood within a foreign land of mossy backdrops and dew-strewn mornings, Link himself had come into his own with little in the way of knowledge of how the greater part of Hyrule ran and operated. It was one of those ties that bound the two of them together- for so many of their formative years, beginning as children, and leading into their teenage years, the two of them had spent so many days in the library together, night in the study, learning far more about one another than they were afforded the same chance at understanding the world beyond those walls, even as Link were more able to carry about as he wished.

They were bound by time itself, by fate. They had already lived many years, catching a faint glimpse of themselves as adults while working to defeat that king of evil. That was seven years afforded to them in preparation, and by the time they had returned to their youth, while their bodies had reverted, their minds remained much as they had been, as had their relationship. Seven years of life wherein they had defeated its very purpose. All they had from those years was one another.

Zelda caught a glimpse of Link as she passed by one of the village’s larger homes, waving to him to catch his attention while he dropped a pair of cinderblocks from his sides, taking a moment to gasp for breath before turning toward the princess, nodding in reply. She couldn’t help but smirk at the product of his strenuous work, sweat-covered hair that stuck to his forehead, his powerful chest churning breath through his body like a bellows, in and out, much as it did while the two of them indulged within one another.

“You really-“

“YEEP!”

Zelda jumped in place, jolting awake from her meandering thoughts, not having expected Link to have approached her. She sighed, wiping her brow as her nerves left their residual imprint upon her skin in the form of goosebumps, shaking her head.

“Don’t frighten me like that,” she warned quietly.

Only able to chuckle in reply, Link shoved his fists against his hips as he bit down whatever moisture he could in his mouth to whet his parched throat, “I wasn’t the one entranced by me.”

“Oh, hush,” Zelda countered, slapping Link’s arm playfully enough to elicit a boyish laugh from the man, “What does Uram have you doing?”

Shrugging, Link’s eyes carried off, “Well, they’re just laying the groundwork for a silo to store some grain. I suppose they were quite taken by your suggestion.”

“I suppose I should be happy,” Zelda sighed, crossing her arms, “At least there’s _something_ I do here that’s worth their trouble in dealing with me.”

“Now _you_ hush,” Link reprimanded, “They’re happy to have your help here. Impa enjoys just seeing you.”

“That’s just Impa; she’d be fine seeing me if I had a keese caught in my hair. She’d shake her head, frown, and say something like, “This child’s gone off her rocker” or whatever,” Zelda groaned.

Unable to hide a grin at her imitation of the Sheikan guardian of Kakariko, Link crossed his arms, head leaning back in critique, “They may not say it to your face, but they _do_ keep giving you assignments when you ask, so I doubt we’re doing bad for ourselves. It hasn’t gotten to the point where anybody’s hiding when they see you coming.”

“Not _yet_ ,” frowned the princess, her eyes rolling in exasperated movement.

Link loosed another chuckle before reaching down to grab a hammer that had been given to him by Uram, waving it in front of Zelda, “Look, just to prove that you possess enough ability when it comes to helping out- Uram hates his materials sitting out alone, so why-“

He paused, noticing Zelda’s narrowing eyes, her skepticism boiling over as he continued, “Why don’t you stay here and watch over all this stuff? I’ve got to take this back to the storeroom, anyway.”

“Watch over this stuff?” Zelda replied incredulously.

Simply enough, Link offered a shrug, “It’s just how Uram likes it, I guess. You need anything to drink?”

“That’s actually part of why I was heading this way; could you grab a bucket while you’re in there?”

Link turned to watch her, “For the well? Isn’t there-"

“Just-" Zelda pouted immediately, crossing her arms with a huff, “You have me standing here looking after brick and mortar; don’t make me admit how much _more_ stupid I’ve been today…”

Unable to resist a tarrying grin, holding him back for a brief moment, Link spun away to direct his movement toward the storeroom, leaving Zelda to that activity in placidity that threatened the very word’s ability to be used. Uram, indeed, hated his equipment to be left alone, though that was merely due to the threat of pilfering hands; he figured Zelda’s assertion that it was somewhat more than that was too humorous to not stoke.

Their playful exchanges had gone on for years now, all in good fun, so far as Link was aware. They hadn’t ever sat and discussed the phenomenon; their games had started as children, and as much as Link could recall, Zelda had been the initial aggressor. Such things hadn’t ever been malicious, being left to trifling things such as Link’s books having been left in precarious locations, or his boots placed upon the edge of a carpet that wasn’t meant to get dirty- things sprung from the mind of a mischievous child who knows little of pranks in general.

Link finally retaliated when he ‘accidentally’ led Zelda into the main chamber of the castle during a visit from the Zora ambassador- a rather grievous faux pas, if anything so negligibly noticeable. Instead of frustration or a swift punch, Zelda merely retorted with more pranks, leaving Link to believe that, were she continuing, she must be okay with such things.

The game was more in its simplicity, while working rather complexly within their social pairing. As they grew older, the teasing ventures left their pranking nature and became far more subtle, becoming much the same as Link’s most recent action of leaving Zelda to believe Uram to be some madman while the man’s reasons were more than understandable. Surely, upon his return, Zelda would be knocked off kilter by Link’s insinuations.

And what a wonderfully fun result, indeed.

Link finally wiped away the smugness from his face as he approached the storeroom, taking a deep breath of the fresh outdoor air before swinging open the door, knowing its interior to be weighted by the suffocating air, swallowed as it was by dust. The sunlight cascading past him left the inside painfully dark, forcing Link a moment of hesitation before stepping inside, pulling the door to a close behind him to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

He made do with what he could, knowing the hammer went nearby. Led by uncertain hands, Link felt his way along the way, finally reaching the hanging rack where the hammers were to be store, allowing him an easy sigh before turning deeper into the storeroom.

“Let’s see… Bucket. Bucket. Buck-“

He froze. The hot sweat of labor covering his skin suddenly went chilled as a fierce shock slithered down his spine, curling into his fingertips like serpents. His toes constricted in time with his fingers, clenching tight before releasing his fingers into outstretched digits. A weak breath escaped him as his eyes widened, slowly bringing into focus even more of the room.

Pots.

As his eyes adjusted further, like a curtain being pulled away with seductive intent, the dark receded, leaving more, more, _more_ vats of pottery appearing as if conjured out of the nether.

All for him…

Link’s breath trembled. He swallowed what air he had in his mouth, leaving his ears to quiver in turn- not due to his body, but to that ephemeral sound, cast across the very breaths that made up the air, finding its way in the back of Link’s mind where it nestled, so soft and pleasant, like an old friend’s voice returning after years. That sound of clay, shattering, being sent like moths to the flame- That sound of magnificence amplified by this small, echoing room with not a being to bring him pause.

Link’s hands pressed against his britches, forcefully, trying to steal away his attention with pain itself, and yet, his mind hadn’t a care. He knew he could have been threatened with a sword and refused.

He knew what he needed to do…

* * *

“Link?!” Zelda shouted, anger clearly lining her voice, yet remained hidden behind her normal candor, lest she give away her true feelings.

She stepped toward the storeroom with clenched fists, her lips swirling like waves across an ocean, her droll eyes cast determinately upon her destination, “I have some words for you, Link.”

“And some _other_ things…” she muttered, only to herself, “Make me look like a- I’m not looking stupid _twice_ in a day!”

Footsteps pattering along with a quaking cadence, she made her way to the storeroom, taking the handle and rather vigorously yanking it open, eyes constricted in suspicion as she stepped inside, door ajar.

“Link..?” she inquired, still with her voice dripping with irony.

No reply.

At that, her brow fell with meandering confusion. Even if she hadn’t hidden her anger well, Link had no reason to outright deny her presence; the deal with Uram was hardly a think compared to previous stunts among the two of them. That he failed to even feign a reply forced a shallow wave of worry to cover her chest as she stepped inside the storeroom.

“..Link?” she asked, now more sincerely.

Her eyes followed the square of sun that cast beyond the doorway, hidden much as it was against Zelda’s silhouette. Still no answer, she thought. Again, a pang of concern crossed her as she took another step. She remained vigilant, her anger having fully shed itself; even if this were merely a ploy to trick her into sympathy, Zelda hadn’t a preclusion toward ignoring such feelings.

Then, a breathless whisper.

“..gah…”

“Link?!” Zelda cried out, whipping her head to the side, throwing her momentum in the direction of the broken voice, her eyes opening like saucers upon reaching the source of that sound, covering her mouth with her hands, “Link!!”

She fell to her knees, reaching over to check on Link. He was lying there against the wall, shoulders trembling, teeth chattering, as his eyes remained wired open. He looked like a man positively possessed, Zelda thought instantly, leaving her with a quick motion. She knew how to handle such occurrences.

_SLAP!_

The sudden, weltering pain upon his cheek forced Link back into coherence, his attention rolling back and forth across the dark room before latching onto Zelda’s face. Sweat sped down his neck as his breaths remained a quick and empty as a marathon runner. He felt his heart rushing desperately too keep up with whatever had forced him into such a state, nearly too fast, forcing a certain worry to cross his mind at the thought of his chest bursting at any moment.

Such a tumultuous sensation was made better as Zelda brought the palms of her hands against his cheeks, their chilling contrast to his own blazing skin offering a slight respite from the energetic mass that threatened to outrun his heart.

“Link,” Zelda spoke, more to calm her partner than to get his attention, “Are you okay..?”

He choked back words, his throat nearly scalding from how dry it was, finally managing, “I- I think so…”

Looking into his wired eyes, a particular pallor fell upon Zelda’s face. He looked like a cat on catnip; pupils ferociously dilated to the ends of his retinas.

“Wh- What happened?!” she inquired suddenly.

Link failed to reply. Instead, his head slowly began to fall toward his chest, forcing a look of curiosity to find its way onto Zelda’s face. She followed his gaze, right into his torso where his arm had laid sprawled across him, his hand desperately holding a collection of broken pottery against his shirt, fingers ferociously clenched around it like a child clawing at candy.

Zelda slowly began putting two-and-two together. Her head turned to the side, deeper into the storeroom, where Kakariko’s assemblage of pots were kept, only to find empty walls. Instead, where the floor had once been neat and tidy, an absolute flood of terra cotta now covered the wooden planks below.

“Goddess help us…” Zelda muttered in a whisper.


	3. Chapter 3

Link sauntered into their small living area, a hand clasped tightly along the satchel slung over his shoulder before he made his way toward the corner of the room, sliding the strap down the length of his arm before dropping the sack there, defeatedly. His eyes purposeful in their avoidance of Zelda, Link slowly began trudging deeper into the home as Zelda shut the front door behind her, pressing her body against the wooden frame as she locked up, staying for a moment’s respite, thinking over the day’s events. Thinking of that strange condition that had brought the man she loved to such a decrepit state the likes of which she hadn’t ever borne witness to prior.

Her head turned over her shoulder, watching his meandering gait as he made his way further into the living quarters, causing her to speak up in inquiry, “...anything you’d like to talk about?”

Link shook his head without adjusting his destination.

Eyes slowly turning down toward the floor, Zelda bit her lip, fighting the persistent urge to force a reply from the man, knowing he simply needed to be alone with his thoughts at that moment. Still, it hurt; knowing how determined he was to withhold so much anguish when she was so prepared to help him through whatever this _thing_ was. It was enough to force her hand- For her to charge in there behind him, smack him in that oh-so-loving way, just to knock some sense into that stubborn hide.

She turned to follow with her eyes, offering lightly, “How about some tea?”

Her lover slid to a stop, vowing his head in consideration. A respectfully wry smile met Zelda, thinking again how much she’d come to, not merely know this man, but to understand him.

With her feet carrying her closer, all while Link considered his options, she managed a gentle brush of her hand along his back on her way to pressing her skin against his shoulder, rubbing a thumb along the collar of his loose-fitting shirt.

“I’ll add an extra something or other. You can try and figure out what it is,” she smirked, “That’ll take your mind off things.”

Link's shoulders slouched under her grasp, a groan escaping him before answering, “You shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“What? So easily calm your nerves?” Zelda teased with a certain warmth, “You’re the man I love. What am I to do? Let you stew alone and allow you to manage such misery on your own?”

Link frowned, looking over his shoulder, “No. But it shouldn’t be easy.”

Lips curling into a smirk, Zelda replied with a mischievous tease, “Ah ha. You still want to be that suave, cool, never-say-a-word hero.”

Link cocked a grin, “That life left me _long_ ago.”

Reaching toward her face to tap a finger atop her nose, he noted amusingly, “You trained me well enough.”

Despite his own meandering humor about the matter, such an assertion only forced Zelda to frown in reply as she complain, “Trained, huh? Like a dog?”

“I mean,” Link shrugged, chuckling dismissively, “It’s not-"

“Really?!”

Zelda grew more heated, leaving Link slightly confused by her insistence.

He went on further, hoping to clarify, “I’m not saying it was _unwelcome_ , just that-"

“So I’m to be a villain in your history?” Zelda questioned with droll eyes, brow raised in disinterest, having washed her hands of the matter already.

Now with a clear avenue toward understanding, Link only cocked a grin, dropping his head and allowing his burnt blonde hair to fall toward his hair, its messy state only mirroring the situation before Link could find resolution. He glanced back up toward Zelda, his upturned head shone like a child's in the middle of some mischievous intention.

“How could you ever be a villain?” he wondered quietly, taking her hand into his own, “You were a hero to a hero. You _saved_ my life. I was _ten_ when I was thrown out into the world with my tail still tucked between my legs with nary a clue how to survive. I experienced things that ought to have rendered me a foolish mass of flesh, and yet, were it not for some unseen forces at work- were it not for Navi guiding me-"

He paused, allowing a quaint smile, “Were it not for _you_ , giving me any clue of what I was doing all this for. All the suffering, the trials, the heartache- Had you not given me purpose, I might have become just another man watching destiny pass him by.”

His words seemed to pacify her irritation, granting him a moment's breadth to twist his hand with her own, entwining his fingers within her own. Zelda's eyes glanced off into the distance, almost frustrated at herself for that insinuation, only to be caught off guard by Link's continued voice.

“When we returned to this time- Everything that I was, left me. I was alone, knowing nothing of the world we had corrected- that we had created together. I had _nothing_. Nothing, but you.”

Link's lips turned tentative, as if in thoughtful reverence of the woman before him, “You saved me from a life devoid of meaning. You gave my fight meaning, and then you bestowed meaning upon me, now. The boy I was- The man I was sure to become, without you-"

He allowed a placid grin, “So you changed me. Big deal. I wouldn’t be happy otherwise.”

A tug manifest itself within his grasp as Zelda squeezed his hand, her breath a cold vapor as she sighed, “Here I thought yiu were the one in need of comfort.”

“I’m not some mindless husk, my dear,” Link smirked, “For all you’ve learned of me, I’ve studied _you_ just the same. Now-“

He nodded, “I was told there’d be tea.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Zelda gave in retort, still embittered by their role reversal, “Only if we discuss what I walked in on earlier today.”

With a low chuckle, Link observed, “Regaining the upper hand, are you?”

“Hush up and go change,” Zelda ordered with an annoyed gasp, turning toward the small kitchen area, leaving her lover's hand newly unrequited.

She stepped toward the stove, readying the hearth before turning toward the sink, taken aback by the presence of Link nearby. A narrow frown came to her, her eyes fierce in scrutiny.

“Well?”

Link returned to a boyish smirk, his clothes having gone untouched as he leaned against the wall to watch Zelda ready the tea, leaving her with a mischievous reply, “I think I’ll wait to change.”

“Suit yourself,” Zelda shrugged, sending the newly filled teapot to the stove top, “I’m not the one having sweated buckets while going at a storeroom like a rabid animal.”

Link dropped his head to conceal a smirk, crossing his arms as he stood there, wandering amongst his own mind, “I _felt_ like a rabid animal.”

At his admittance, Zelda’s face began to melt. She turned to watch his dour posture, wondering what possibly could have gone through his mind- What was going through his mind _now_? She quietly turned to the infusion ball where their rea would be brewed within, carefully putting together the usual bits of rooted plants, herbs, tea leaves that had accompanied their latest few tastes. She recalled her promise, checking Link's attention having remained absent before adding a few more ingredients to the steel ball before shutting it, wondering how well he might do.

Her job completed while the water came to a boil, Zelda turned to face the man she had loved for years, now, watching his shoulders cower in a way so uncharacteristic of him. In a way she hadn’t ever seen before. How troubled must he be, within his mind, for his body to be following suit?

“What happened in there..?” she gently inquired, a hint of caution lining her voice.

Link ran a nervous hand along his opposing arm, concealing a piddling portion of his chest in subconscious apprehension, his eyes meandering away as he considered his words critically before speaking, “It was, uh-"

He bit his cheek, digging the sharpest among his teeth into the crease where his lips met, taking a breath into his nostrils before continuing softly, as if to work his words past Zelda in a whisper, “You weren’t ever properly introduced to Navi, but- You knew she not only guided me across Hyrule, but also into a young adulthood that I did nothing to earn.”

Digging a nail into the skin of his arm, Link buried a breath into the depths his lungs, preparing himself for Zelda's inevitable conclusion before muttering on, “But- There was something more to it. Like-"

His eyes fell, “Like some other… _power_ \- Something _else_ was compelling me to press on. Something else was guiding me along.”

“Some _thing_ ,” Zelda inquired softly.

Shrugging, Link replied, “Thing, spirit- I don’t know what it was, but- There were moments where I found myself within the throes of these fits. I would be going along, so far as I understood, as normal, when- I would strike a cuckoo, out of nowhere, compulsively; as if I hadn’t a say in the matter. I would wander around like a mad man, finding bits of tall grass to cut, trekking across Hyrule while stepping backward- The most _insane_ choices of action.”

Zelda pursed her lips, “And breaking pottery…”

“Like I was crazy,” Link bit, demonstrating his frustrations, “After we returned to our proper time, Navi left me, as you know. but that… noise- Like white noise in the nooks of my brain- It vanished, entirely. I was left, alone. Alone with my thoughts; with a history in a future that would never be. I was understandably shaken, I guess-"

He loosened a humored chuckle, “I had _you_ , but- That _thing_ … It- _They_ may have left, but there were some… side-effects, I guess? I would wake up in the middle of the night with chills, shaking like a wild animal, probably what you saw earlier. Thinking of those oddities, wanting so much to just find a pot to smash like a feral monster, scratching the palms of my hands, desperate to keep myself from furiously rushing outdoors to find some grass to shred.”

“That _thing_ left… but what remained, just-"

A subtle _clang_ of porcelain broke him from his stupor. His eyes bounced up to find Zelda pouring a pair of pristine mugs full of tea, the profile of her face tensed in subdued regret. Link disliked that expression; that the woman he loved could be so fretful at all- If he had a single duty to his beloved, it was to prevent such sorrowful expressions from occurring at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zelda inquired quietly, pulling a mug into her chest before stepping away, leaning against the counter to allow Link access himself to the matching vessel.

Link took a breath, “I might have, we’re such things to manifest themselves more often. Even then, I- I’d hate to give you any reason to find me unworthy.”

“Link…” came a reply laced with tender exasperation, “You could never _do_ , or _be_ , anything that would result in me loving you any less.”

She shook her head, burying her eyes into the shadowed liquid that she had brought to her, “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. and I so wish for that to remain so long as I’m alive.”

Link ran his hand along his arm once again, his embarrassment forcing him to react accordingly, leaving his grin to hide behind a downturned glance. He took a moment to recoup, only for Zelda's voice to yank him back once more.

“Now, your tea. No point in it getting cold.”

Smiling, thinking of their dichotomy- he being one so subdued and quiet, she being every bit the leader her lineage had bestowed upon her- Link couldn’t help but love her all the more. Even more than love, she offered him something that had departed from him ever since their charge to defeat the evil king. She offered direction- a reason to _be_.

He took the remaining mug, quietly raising it to his lips while Zelda studied his face, almost in an attempt to ascertain the effects of her new brew. For the amount of intrigue she hoped for it to bring, more than anything, she wished for it to quell his worries in a way she could not. Tea always spoke to the child in him, taking him back to those days where his world seemed so plain and easy.

Link took a sip before nodding, almost immediately, “Hylia orchid leaf.”

Curling distastefully, Zelda’s face fell into a frown before being hidden behind her mug, “You could at least make it _seem_ as though it’s a challenge.”

Grinning in reply, Link slumped his shoulders, bowing his head in surrender, “Of all the senses, taste just always seemed to resonate most with me. Owing to all the tea, I’m sure. If you truly were hoping to stump me-“

He paused, Zelda having stretched a wry smirk across her face, “I _am_ a woman. Some ingredients hidden behind that shroud to the west might be what I need.”

“You make it sound like a quest. Tricking your man shouldn’t be so fun,” Link chuckled mutely.

Zelda’s eyes flashed, “Nor should tricking your _woman_ , pot-breaker.”

Frowning suddenly, Link turned to glance at the cabinet which still held two of the three pots she had as decoration, “Truly, I _am_ sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Zelda replied, her light-hearted tone echoing into her mug as she drank, “They’re ghastly things. I had to showcase some _pretty_ spectacular exuberance when mother gifted them to me. ‘Oh, mother! By the goddess! I never thought I’d live to see such breathtaking pottery!’ All that noise.”

Link smirked, “And she couldn’t see through that deceitful veneer?”

“Not when I’m so good at it,” Zelda’s eyes narrowed in time with her own grin, “Though, I do have the privilege of coming from royalty. I wasn’t terrible growing up, at least not wildly so; by now, my mother couldn’t think of me as anything but a proper lady.”

She took a sip of tea, shutting her eyes as she did so, perhaps in some emulation of that kind of haughty behavior that often bestows upon those of high pedigree. By the time she once again turned her eyes upon Link, however, her brow surged forward in suspicion.

“What..?”

Link had been visibly amused by her previous statement, his eyes turned away while he laughed under his breath, “ _Proper_ lady?”

Eyes rolled, Zelda supplied a scoff, “Hush. Don’t give me that bite of sarcasm in your voice.”

“Sorry,” Link returned, still with a grin, “I suppose it’s only natural I would know things about you no one else knows. Especially after all these years.”

“Uh _huh_. And you think that makes you so clever.”

He coyly cocked his brow in her direction, “If I had any thought that you hated it, I might have stopped. So far as I can tell, with all your little retaliations- I’d happen a guess that you rather enjoy it.”

“ _Enjoy_ it,” Zelda scoffed in repetition, looking away, “You think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

“You trained me well enough, as I said,” came a wry response, “I may not be _smooth_ to everybody, but I certainly know how to be that way for you.”

Zelda's mind flashed, knowing his last two words had to have been calculated. ‘ _To_ you’, perhaps, but- That word, ‘ _for_ ’. It stoked a particularly devilish string along Zelda's psyche; such a submissive way of putting it. Certainly he knew what such a tone would do to her. Once upon a time, she might not have known, herself, but after years of this man coming to know her quirks, her mind- even her body- there was no way he _couldn’t_ have known what such a simple word could do to her.

“There’s that word again,” Zelda sighed, shaking her head.

Link chuckled, “ _Trained_?”

Sending her eyes toward the ceiling, Zelda shook her head in exasperation, “Even if it _were_ true, you’re obviously not one for following directions.”

“How so?”

Shrugging, Zelda motioned her head toward him, “I _just_ told you to go change when you decided to show up in here and start acting cute. Obviously, were I honestly doing as you say, I wouldn’t be doing a good job of it.”

Link retorted with a boyish smirk, “No, I think you’ve done a fine job.”

Her brow curling with suspicion, with a twinge of intrigue, Zelda glared down Link’s body, examining his entire form, wondering where she had mis-stepped. He was clearly working toward _something_ , she knew, but what? Devoid of his end game, she knew the journey precluded much of that- the games these two played, they all were worth the wait for whatever might come of them. Link could simply spill his thoughts, Zelda understood, but what fun would that be?

“I’m out of my mind,” Link shrugged, leaving a bit of twine for Zelda to follow, “If it’s not some condition, then- it’s you.”

Her eyes glowed with curiosity.

“You can’t expect me to understand anything when you’re standing before me, brewing me tea, listening to my thoughts- looking so beautiful as you do.”

Link shook his head, “I’m _helpless_ without your training. After all, you were the one to show me how best to heal an ailing heart- an insufferable mind.”

Now she knew. A wry smirk overtook her lips as she dropped her head, swaying it side to side in disbelief before taking a step toward her beloved.

“You’re such a boy,” she opined to herself lightly, leaving enough for Link’s ears to accept.

Link returned a grin of his own as she approached, preemptively setting aside the mug in his hand just before she stood just before him, pressing her hands into his chest before pushing herself against him, raising herself up just enough to catch his lips with his own. Managing on his own, Link reached up to grab hold of her waist, subconsciously pulling her closer as if that were possible. Her body pressed his damp shirt against his skin, forcing a chilly breadth of material to sting at his torso before her delicate warmth began to work its way into his own body temperature.

“You’re drenched,” Zelda whispered, pulling away from his lips only just enough for her pair to form the words.

Link shook his head, her eyes sinking into her own, “What am I to do?”

Yet another coy remark, though Zelda had felt herself too far gone to make mention of his further teasing. She knew him to be prepared with some further quip, all in the venture toward proving Zelda to be ‘training’ him. Perhaps if she were to demand he follow through with removing his own shirt, he would be gloating for the rest of the night, knowing her incapable of-

 _A_ _thought_. Zelda’s eyes gleamed affectionately, as if her heart were speaking in some unintelligible diction though those pools of endless color; in her mind, however, she knew her plan to recuse herself from being the ‘loser’ of this confrontation of adoration.

Her hands trailed down his chest, speaking words with motion rather than her tongue, leaving Link slightly confused behind his unaffected exterior. Why wasn’t she demanding he remove his shirt to avoid a cold? Why wasn’t she doing exactly what she should be-

Zelda’s hands clamped down upon either side of Link’s shirt just along his waist. His eyes grew narrow in suspicion, like a thief whose plan has just gone awry, not least of which due to the cryptic smirk that arose along Zelda’s face. She bunched up the damp material of his shirt, running her hands up his sides to expose the bottom-most portion of his stomach, showing no signs of pausing as she continued, leaving Link, alone, to raise his arms so that she may remove the sweat-drenched fabric entirely, wholly lost in whatever it was she had going on.

His shirt came up over his head, caught in a tight embrace along either arm, leaving Zelda in the enticing view of his musculature without Link’s immediate knowledge, as if she were sneaking a peek. Despite the thrill of forbidden sight, her plan required this element of surprise that had begun to wane. She pushed his shirt up further along his arms, exposing his head to reveal eyes shrunken in critique.

With the slowness of a summer breeze, Zelda’s lips found their ways against his chest, kissing at his taut skin, enjoying the feeling of tightly-bound flesh, as if it were canvas strapped to a frame, bouncing back with every relinquished press of her lips. Link couldn’t hope to leave her with his eyes, locked as they were upon her, still with his arms hanging languidly above his head. His salty taste, a mixture of sweat and that ineffable twinge of flavor that remained solely his, found its way onto her tongue as it battled its way through her lips, focused as she was on continuing her kissing while also accepting what he could of his incensed spice.

“What’re you-“ a sharp pain at his chest as Zelda’s hands pressed Link’s forearms together, preventing a reaction from him beyond a sudden, “Gah!”

It was only an impromptu nibble, Zelda knew, forcing a smirk to spread across her lips as she continued her kissing, leaving Link with a gentle enough suckle against the divide along the center in his chest to make up for the silent command. Perhaps too late to have avoided that, Link now understood her game, particularly in the feeling of material around his wrists that might as well have forced him strung up, evaluated by this woman’s tongue and lips as though he were some beast to be consumed.

“No words,” Zelda muttered, her tempered breath breaking against his torso with a heat that could only be matching the rhythmic furnace of her heart.

Simply action. Link’s eyes widened, intrigued as he was by Zelda’s sudden movement, brushing past him to leave her lover with his arms strung up in the air by bonds of fabric. He was sure he looked abhorrently silly, though perhaps that was merely her plan.

As he fixed his arms, having removed his shirt, he knew he had _conceded_ _this_ round. Though, that said nothing of the few more rounds sure to follow as the two made their way further into the small living complex within those hallowed castle walls.


End file.
